Page 118 of Kiwi Gold
“Wh-what?” she asked. “Just … just do it.”
I smiled. “Nah. Come on, baby. Turn over for me. Hands and knees.”
Her eyes flew open, and I smiled again. “Come on. Do it. Feet at the edge of the bed. You saw the picture.”
Was it a rush when she did? Well, yeh, it was. Hair down her back, falling over her shoulders. Curve of her waist, and skin like pale gold. I parted her hair, exposing the nape of her neck, and she shuddered. I got to my feet behind her, drew my hand down her back, tracing her spine, and she moaned. I ran that same hand over the curve of her arse, and she …
Backed into me.
Oh, yeh. She did.
Take it easy,I told myself.Take it slow.But when I pushed inside her, slow as I could manage it, and she tightened around me like a glove that was two sizes too small? I had to stand there, holding her hips, holding her still, and breathe. Until, finally, I started moving. All the way out, slow as I could do it, and a harder thrust in. Trying to keep it from being rough, even though the need was clawing at me, devouring me. Over and over again, until she was rocking again, her head down, calling out with every thrust, and I couldn’t keep it gentle anymore.
When I flicked the switch on the vibrator, felt the buzz, and set the sucking end to her, she cried out. I took it away and said, “All … right?”
“Lachlan,” she said.“Lachlan.”Which sounded like, “Let’s go”to me.
Is there any better feeling than a woman coming around you, squeezing you, when you’re buried all the way inside her? Yes, there is, because if she’s the one and only woman you want, it’s even better than that. I barely hung on through it, and as soon as she’d finished, I rolled her over, pulled her up the bed, climbed over her, shoved her legs up over my shoulders, and thrust into her again. My hand under her lower back, pulling her up into me, and that was the right angle, because she was tensing again. Her arms over her head, and my other hand planted beside them, giving me leverage.
So close. So … close. I kept it up, and I felt the moment when she started to contract again. And stopped.
She called out, in frustration this time, and I pulled out of her, lowered her legs, and said, “Come on. Get on top of me.”
“I … can’t,” she said. She was shaking for real now, her eyes huge, her mouth open.
“You can,” I said. “My turn to watch. Come on.”
I’d known she’d do it, because Laila was nothing if not brave. She held me in her hand, slid down over me, enveloping me like that glove again, and said, “It’s … I can’t. I need to feel it.Lachlan.”
I groped for that device I’d bought, and when I had it, I flicked it on. The second I put it on her, she started to come. I flicked it off, got my hands around her hips, and drove her over me. Four times. Five. Six. She was calling out, her hands going out to the side, all the way to shoulder height, like she was trying to balance on a single point, to grind herself into it, to feel that friction. Which she was.
When she was panting, when she was moaning, I flicked the thing on again, and she was there in two thrusts.
I turned it off. She wailed. Three more hard thrusts, four, five, and her arms were beating like wings.
I turned it on again.
This time, there was no delay. This time, she came like the waves crashing on the shore. She came like flying into the storm. Like the wind and the rain and the thunder and the lightning. And this time, I went with her.
Heat. Hunger. Electricity running between us like a current.
Into the darkness.
* * *
Laila
I couldn’t stop shaking. I couldn’t catch my breath. I was lying over Lachlan, it was long minutes later, and my entire body was still shuddering. His hand caressing me, over my hair, over my back, over my bottom and my thighs, then doing it again, as if all he wanted was everything I had, but so tender, too. He kissed the top of my head, stroked me again, and said, “I told you it’d be good.”
“Yes,” I said, with about the last bit of energy I had. “Is it … always like that?”
I could almost feel his smile. “No,” he said, and his voice was gentle. “Reckon it’s only like that when you’re in love.”
I lifted my head, and he smiled at me. Rueful, that was the word for that smile. “I can’t help it, it seems,” he said. “How are you feeling, after doing that? Not being married?”
Oh. There we were. I swallowed and said, “I don’t know.”
“Would it help,” he said, “if I said that’s what I want?”
